


Homecoming

by CloakedSparrow



Series: Collected Bat-Family Stories [34]
Category: Batman (Comics), Detective Comics (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Children, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Annoying reporters, Bat Brothers, Bat Family, Batdad, Bruce loves his kids, Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Formalwear, Gen, Jason Todd-centric, Jason is a good brother, One Shot, Past Character Death, alfred is awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 04:59:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15308025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloakedSparrow/pseuds/CloakedSparrow
Summary: After being brought back from the dead physically and then legally, the night of Jason's homecoming ball is finally here. He just wants it over with. He's happy to be able to publicly use his name and acknowledge his family. Having to wear a tuxedo, talk to reporters, and deal with upper class busybodies, not so much.For better or worse, Jason Todd-Wayne is officially back in Gotham.





	Homecoming

Jason frowned at his reflection in the mirror. Through the many upper class parties and charity events Bruce had dragged him to when he was a kid, he’d somehow never gotten the hang of tying a bow-tie. Since his resurrection, he’d had no reason to ever wear a tuxedo, so it hadn’t been an issue. Now they were having his official homecoming ball and he’d spent twenty minutes tying and untying it in an attempt to get it presentable.

He was glad he’d decided to get ready much earlier than he should have needed to. If this kept up, he was going to have to take another shower from the stress sweat that was starting to break through his skin. 

“Still haven’t gotten the hang of that?” Bruce asked, his tone teasing but his eyes warm as he entered the room and saw his son glaring at the offending bow, which was bigger on the left side and completely lopsided. 

“The damn thing won’t stay straight.” Jason huffed out a breath of irritation. He wasn’t looking forward to this event to begin with. They’d already had a celebration with the people who mattered and who were a part of his life. This ball would amount to a bunch of strangers, old acquaintances that amounted to strangers, and a few select members of the press, all asking him questions and giving phony statement on how they’d missed him and how happy they were to have him back. 

He understood the need for it. Jason Todd-Wayne just suddenly returned to Gotham after being dead and buried; people were going to have questions. Rumors would fly off the handle if the family didn’t get ahead of them. It didn’t mean he had to like it. But he did have to endure it. 

Another attempt at tying his bow-tie led to failure again. “Can I just wear a normal tie?”

“Not with a tuxedo. Not at a ball. Here.” Bruce came up behind him and took the ends of the tie, slowly putting them right and tying it expertly so Jason could see how it was done. 

Considering the number of times he’d tried showing him in the past, Jason doubted it would amount to anything beyond him looking proper that specific evening, but he appreciated the effort. He paid attention, but he still wouldn’t bet on being able to replicate Bruce’s perfect knot and bow. 

“Thanks.”

Bruce squeezed his shoulder. “Any time.” He looked his second son over. Alfred had pressed his suit, of course, and Jason had redyed his hair for the occasion. “You look good. Other than the scowl.” He offered a smirk. “You and Damian have never looked more like brothers.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “I can’t wait for this night to be over with. Don’t worry though,” He quickly added. “I’ll play nice with the press and busybodies...for now. Assuming they don’t ask anything _too_ inappropriate.”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” Bruce didn’t sound concerned. His next offer was more likely born from his need to be over-prepared than actual fear that Jason was going to mess up. “Do you want to go over any details before our guests start arriving?”

Jason considered the offer. He was pretty solid on his own end of the story. After sneaking out to search for his birth mother, he’d been been kidnapped for ransom, was taken out of the country, accidentally got caught in an explosion caused by the kidnappers, and was presumed dead by them. They sent a convincing replacement corpse and there was supposedly an open case now on how they’d gotten the coroner to ID the body as Jason’s. Meanwhile, Jason’s injuries had landed him in a hospital in a coma, far enough away from Gotham that no connection was made between the missing Wayne child and the young John Doe. 

Retrograde amnesia and, later, his own wounded pride had stopped him from returning home immediately afterwards. Eventually, he matured enough to get over the embarrassment of running away and being kidnapped, and to get over idea of being ‘replaced’ when he learned Bruce had adopted another child. He came home, but his family kept his return a secret until he was comfortable enough to face the public. 

However, there were some aspects of his family he would have missed and asked after, that the press might take the opportunity to ask him about now. If for no other reason than to see if they got a different story or more detailed version than the family had told them before. 

“What’s the official story on Tim’s emancipation?” Somehow, he’d never gotten around to asking about that. He supposed he hadn’t needed to know before. Its wasn’t as though anyone was going to ask the Red Hood about the young Wayne heir. “You weren’t ever legally dead, right?”

“No, just on a series of trips. Making appearances at various countries Wayne Enterprises was offering aid to or checking up on our overseas locations, visiting businesses we might benefit from working with. That sort of thing.” Bruce looked like he wasn’t entirely happy with the official story, but they had no choice but to stick to it at this point. “As for Tim’s emancipation…”

He appeared to be looking for a more gentle way to phrase it than he normally would. Bruce was making those kinds of efforts these days and his kids appreciated it. “Damian’s arrival was _eventful_. He didn’t like the idea of having to share my affections or attention with another child and he acted out violently. I was always busy with work or finding ways to help Damian. Alfred had added Damian’s schooling to his workload, so he was often busy as well. 

“Cassandra and Dick had both moved out already and weren’t around for support.” Bruce appeared genuinely regretful as he thought back on how everything had really played out at that time. “It just became too much for Tim, so he got himself emancipated and moved out.”

That handled half of the story. Jason wondered about the other half. “And then just figured he’d take on a bigger role at Wayne Enterprise to…what, occupy himself?”

“And because I needed more time with Damian.” Bruce gave a one shouldered shrug. “But otherwise, yes. He likes to keep busy. Its how he deals with stress. Plus, if he was always focused on work, he thought maybe he wouldn’t notice how alone he suddenly was.”

Jason scoffed. “So basically the truth but with a few changes.”

“Basically.” Bruce looked regretful. Still, he continued with the official explanation rather than start that argument again. “I kept Damian home-schooled and removed myself from the dating scene to address his behavioral issues. That, along with the time Tim had allotted me by taking over most of my responsibilities at W.E., led me to re-evaluate my life and decide I wanted to focus on being a father more. Dick came around a lot to help and to spend more time with the family. Tim and Cassandra kept their distance for a while. Between the therapy he received here, a structured routine he could rely on, and a lot of patience and love, Damian has been doing much better.”

“And during all this is when I showed up after having been declared dead and recovering from a coma?” Jason shook his head. He had to fight not to laugh. “You realize our official story makes our family sound like one of the novellas my old babysitter used to watch, right? Now all we need is for Alfred to turn out to be your biological father after having had a torrid affair with your mom, at least one of us to come out of the closet, and either an old lover or your long lost twin needs to show up and try to steal your fortune.”

Bruce chuckled. “Only he turns out not to be my twin, but a villain who underwent plastic surgery to pass as my twin.” Suddenly the amusement faded. He looked somewhere between irritated and puzzled. “Actually, something like that has already happened.”

He looked at Jason. “We _are_ a novella.”

They were both laughing when Tim came in. He looked pleasantly surprised to find Jason and Bruce laughing together. “There’s something you don’t see every day.”

“We’ve realized the official Wayne family has become our own personal novella.” Jason explained, he couldn’t help but notice that his little brother’s tie and cuff links were adjusted perfectly. He didn’t hold it against him. “If you’re ace or gay or actually a girl, feel free to come out during the ball. It’ll be the perfect dramatic segue to the new story arch.”

Tim arched a brow but didn’t bother to ask what his brother was talking about. Actually, he quickly looked a little concerned. And somewhat guilty.

Jason stopped laughing immediately. “Shit, I didn’t mean to make a joke out of it if you’re really ace or gay or something.” He looked his little brother over, he wasn’t offended or hurt. He was just incredibly concerned, so it was definitely something else. “What is it?” 

“I, uh, I might have messed up.” Tim looked embarrassed and apologetic. “Actually, no, I _definitely_ messed up.”

Jason frowned. Beside him, Bruce looked concerned now too. “What did you do?”

“I attended Jason’s funeral.” Tim said that like that was a much bigger deal than Jason figured it was. 

Just in case he missed something, Jason looked at Bruce to see if he seemed to think there was something more to that as well. 

Their father was thinking, but he looked significantly less concerned than he had before. “You’re parents were associates of mine, we saw each other at several events and parties, we discussed business and travel. Your mother and I knew each other as children and we remained friendly for some time. Plus, members of the upper crust usually attend each other’s funerals and the like. No one should find it suspicious that you were there.”

Tim didn’t look very assured. “Yeah, but...this was different. My parents were out of the country. I thought I could say I went in their stead, to show support to such an important figure in Gotham. I tried to look like I was just at the funeral of the son of one of my parents' associates.”

The boy sighed. He looked ashamed. “I didn’t pull it off.” 

Tim glanced at Jason and then didn’t make eye contact with either of the older males, instead looking over the remnants of Jason’s old room as he explained. “I knew we weren’t friends or anything, but I’d been following you as Robin for so long and...” He shrugged. “You were my hero. I couldn’t play it cool. I was quiet and I stayed behind the crowd, but anyone who saw me would have seen that it really hurt to lose you.”

Jason stepped forward and rubbed Tim’s upper arm. He gripped it lightly to hold his brother’s attention after he calmed enough to face him again. “You were just a kid, Timbers. Its okay. If anyone did notice and actually remembers, they probably just think you hadn’t experienced death like that yet.”

His little brother considered that. It looked like he wanted to believe it but couldn’t. Jason waited for him to say whatever else there was to the problem. There was clearly something more. 

“Maybe, but, I also stayed _way_ too long.” Tim looked at Bruce. “I was still there when you left.”

Jason never asked about his funeral, but by the weight behind the statement, he guessed both Tim and Bruce had stayed at his grave for much longer than was customary. It was a sad thought, but also a touching one. He didn’t want his family to have hurt like that, but it was nice to know how much he’d meant to them. It was nice to know he was loved.

Bruce looked sad and just slightly surprised. “I didn’t notice you.”

Tim didn’t seem to find that surprising. “Jason was gone. You were grieving. I stayed back and I was quiet.” 

Considering that Tim had successfully stalked and photographed Batman and Robin for years as a small child without drawing their attention, Jason figured that last part was an understatement. 

He also thought this didn’t need to be that much of an issue and he didn’t want to drag it out when he saw how much it was hurting his father and little brother to relive the memory. “Okay, so...like I said, no one is probably going to make anything of that beyond a small child experiencing the death of someone he knew for the first time. If they had, they would have asked about it already. If someone is rude enough to bring up my funeral now that my death is in the public consciousness again, we’ll just say we’d known each other enough for my death to have a strong affect on tiny-you.”

The age gap between them would have meant more back then, and the lack of any public showing of them as friends would suggest they hadn’t been terribly close. Jason figured that could work in their favor. It would be enough for someone to find it reasonable that the two boys hadn’t been well known acquaintances, that they hadn’t heard of their friendship, while still serving to make Tim’s reaction to Jason’s death perfectly understandable. 

Bruce looked at Jason at that, his expression approving, then turned to Tim. He used his problem solving voice. “Is there anyone who could contest it if we said Jason used to babysit you occasionally? Back when he was Robin?”

Tim thought on that for a brief moment. “Uh, no…” As his mouth caught up to his mind, he sounded certain. “Yeah, no. You know how often I came and went. No one really noticed, so they couldn’t say where I was going or who I was with. It would probably make more sense to some people if they heard there was someone else watching me back then.”

Bruce nodded, looking somewhat regretful, and somewhat pleased. He didn’t like the idea of any of his children having been neglected before coming to him, but said neglect was about to work in his family’s favor now. He turned to Jason. “It would also put you somewhere else, with another witness besides just me or Alfred, while Robin was active.” 

Bruce always loved it when they were able to alibi themselves further. Anything that put one more level of distance between the Wayne family and the Bat family. Anything that helped keep them protected.

“Alright, here’s the story.” Bruce was clearly double-checking details in his head while he explained, as was Tim while he listened. “Jason, after you caught Tim out by himself one night, you told him to come here whenever he was bored or scared or just didn’t want to be alone. He called you up on it sometimes; try to keep the actual amount of time he spent here vague. I assumed the Drakes were aware of it and I knew Tim was a good kid, so I had no issues with it.

“I even invited Tim to continue to come here after you died.” Bruce glanced at Tim, the last part sounded less like a story and more like a truth he’d forgotten to mention before. “It meant the world to me and Alfred, to have him here after we lost you.”

Tim looked sad but touched as he nodded his understanding of the new official story that wasn’t entirely fictitious. 

Jason wished he’d considered that last point when he first returned and thought he’d been simply replaced, forgotten, and left unavenged. Not only would it have saved him a world of grief, it would have meant being close to his family sooner. He supposed there was no need to think about that now. Everything had worked out, in the end. He had his family. He had his life back. 

What else could a dead guy ask for?

Focusing on the present, Jason thought it was a pretty solid plan. There were people who knew Tim Drake was often at Wayne Manor even before his parents’ deaths. Jason had heard some whispers, but nothing concerning enough to address. As far as he knew, no one had dared to ask about it, at least, not loudly or to anyone who could give actual answers. It was part of why no one asked questions when Bruce adopted Tim after his parents died. There had clearly been a connection between the families that others were unaware of. 

Since no one knew what that connection was, Bruce’s new story might just be the missing piece the whisperers were looking for. 

“Wait, so...you never offered an explanation for how Tim became yours?” Jason was trying not to sound judgemental, but that seemed like a pretty huge omission. If that was the case, he was surprised he’d only heard whispered rumors and not seen tabloids covered with crazy theories. “What, you just said ‘he’s _my_ kid now’ and called it a day?”

Bruce didn’t look impressed with the assessment. “I had just lost my son. I was trying to ensure I didn’t lose another. I wasn’t at the top of my game, okay?”

“To be fair, no one asked.” Tim supplied, then he frowned. “Which is really weird, come to think of it.”

Jason shrugged. That part didn’t surprise him. “Maybe after the crazy rich guy adopted two other random kids, no one figured it was worth addressing when he stepped it up a notch by claiming his neighbor's kid as his own. Maybe they didn’t _want_ to address it. Rich people are weird.”

Bruce looked at Jason as though something had just occurred to him. “You _do_ realize you’re rich now, don’t you? You have been since I adopted you. Your trust fund is bigger than the annual budget of several countries.”

Jason had recently thought of that when he had to go over everything while the family was preparing to legally bring him back from the dead. “Oh, that reminds me...Timbers, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. When this stupid ball is over, remind me I have a proposition for you.”

Tim nodded. He looked intrigued, and curious, but he was patient. Jason had no doubt his little brother would behave perfectly during the ball and then ask Jason a dozen questions rapid fire once they were alone afterwards and he brought up the idea of a youth center or charity.

There was a knock at the door, before Dick’s voice came through. “Hey, Jay; you decent in there?”

Jason was glad his big brother had finally learned his lesson about barging into his space. He’d just wished it hadn’t taken a taser aimed at his privates to get there. “Yeah, come in.” 

Dick came in, followed by Damian. Both were wearing tailored tuxedos and had combed and pasted their hair perfectly. Their shoes were even shined. 

“Damn, everyone’s looking sharp tonight.” Jason resisted the urge to fiddle with the cuff-links Alfred had put out for him. He was not nearly as comfortable in the tux as his brothers appeared to be. He also noticed that his sister was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s Cass?”

Dick grinned. “Where else? She’s in the kitchen, getting her fill before she has to ‘eat like a lady’ at the ball. She said she’ll be there to stand beside you and greet our guest when the time comes.” 

He looked at Bruce. “Alfred said he’ll make sure she doesn’t have food on her gown when she does.” He grinned as he added, “Apparently, canapés don’t work with Dior and Cartier.”

Jason laughed. That was definitely an Alfred comment. 

Their father nodded once, pleased by the report. Then, he addressed his eldest and youngest. “There’s been a slight change in the story regarding how Tim joined the family.”

Dick nodded, clearly ready to commit whatever came next to memory. Damian scoffed. “As if I’m going to answer questions about Drake. If anyone asks, I’ll just remind them that he was already part of the family when my mother deemed it appropriate to drop me on your doorstep.”

Dick patted his youngest sibling’s head. Then he smoothed his hair. “Well, _I_ was around, so I want to hear it.”

Damian merely shrugged. Bruce fixed him with a look. “Damian; best behavior tonight. I mean it. We can’t afford for anyone to get suspicious about Jason’s return or Tim’s adoption. This is for the whole family’s safety, including yours.”

“I understand, Father.” The boy relented. Dick pulled him into a half hug. He told him to mind the tux but didn’t shove him away. 

Bruce glanced at his youngest as if praying for patience and then met Dick’s gaze again. “Jason found Tim wandering around by himself when he used to sneak out at night. He offered for him to come here, and Tim took him up on it. I liked the idea of Jason babysitting; it teaches responsibility and compassion. When Jason died, it hit Tim as hard as the rest of us. I kept the invitation to come around open and he took me up on it until he eventually became my son.”

Dick nodded that he understood the story, but frowned at his father. “What brought this on? Did someone question how close Jay and Tim are, or do you expect them to?”

Bruce stopped Tim before he could answer, before he could acknowledge what he saw as a mistake. “It occurred to Tim that anyone who saw him grieving at Jason’s funeral might question the severity of it now that they’re family. Having an established relationship between them before Jason’s death helps explain all of it. It also gives them another Robin alibi.”

“We all know how much you like those.” Dick smiled at their father. He looked at Jason. “Remind me, how long have you been officially working at W.E. and how did that happen? Just in case someone asks.”

“Since just after the holidays.” Jason already had the W.E. stuff down. “I worked for an aid agency in Ethiopia while I was gone, so Bruce and Tim figured the community outreach department at W.E. would be up my alley.” He considered the small amount of work he’d done for it thus far, since he had actually missed the memo when Tim retroactively set him up with the job. “So far, I’m liking it.”

Dick nodded, committing the information to memory. He looked pleased at the mention that his little brother was enjoying his work. “That’s good.” He nodded toward Tim. “Timmy says you’re good at it.”

That made Jason pleased. While he knew his little brother would cover him if he made a mistake on the job, he also knew Tim took his own job at W.E. very seriously. He wouldn’t sing Jason’s praises to their big brother if he weren’t actually doing well. 

Damian frowned and crossed his arms. He looked between Bruce and Tim. “What if someone tries to look into Todd’s work at Ethiopia? Won’t it look odd that there isn’t any record of it somewhere?”

Tim answered, not sounding bothered by the concern. “I hacked the system at Drake Industries. He has an employee record with the aid agency there that accounts for almost the whole time he was gone, minus his hospital stay. The hospital he was supposed to be in there doesn’t keep records of one-time patients for long and they’re so overworked that no one can be expected to remember one kid they treated a couple years ago. The records at Drake Industries are almost impossible to disprove since the aid agency’s work is spread out over several countries and villages and everyone’s so busy they can rarely vouch for anyone outside of prominent doctors or friends. 

“That said, Steph and Harper are listed as former volunteers and they’ll both say they saw him independently of each other, if interviewed. They’ll say they never recognized him as Jason Todd-Wayne, since they didn’t know him. Dr Thompkins volunteers with it often and she’ll vouch for having seen him there too, only she did recognize him. That’s what ultimately led to his homecoming.” 

Tim smiled at Jason. Despite the lies, he was genuinely happy to have his brother home again. 

Jason returned the smile. He felt the same way. Then he picked up the narrative for Damian, since he was finally listening. “It was the first time I had to answer to someone for not coming home. It made me re-evaluate my reasons for staying away. I realized I was being foolish and made arrangements to come home, quietly.”

He made a motion that encompassed the family as a whole. “You guys were good enough to help me keep it a secret for the past year, so I could get used to being home again. And so I could get to know you and Cass, and re-establish my relationships with Dick, Tim, Bruce, Alfred and Kate, without any pressure from the press or public. And that leads us to this dumb-ass ball.” He sighed. He really hated balls.

Tim rubbed his arm and Bruce patted his back. His father sounded more amused than sympathetic when he responded though. “You’ll be fine. You’ve stood your ground against me, Superman, the local mafia, and any number of Rogues, you can handle a ball.”

“And we’ll be here.” Tim added. At least _he_ sounded sympathetic. “We won’t leave you alone.”

Dick also looked sympathetic when he jumped in. “Do you want us to come up with a code or signal in case you need one of us to intervene or make an excuse for you to leave a conversation?”

“I think you’ll know when I’m reaching my limit.” His siblings knew him very well these days. He doubted he’d get into trouble without them noticing, especially since they were determined not to leave him alone at the ball. 

“But you don’t have to wait that long.” Tim pointed out as he fixed one of Jason’s cuff links. He met his brother’s gaze with resolve. “I mean it, Jay. If we don’t notice on our own, don’t wait until you’re ready punch someone before you clue one of us in that you need an exit. You shouldn’t be that irritated or uncomfortable here, even during a ball.”

Damian looked considering. “I could punch them for you?”

“No.” Their father’s response was instantly echoed by each of his brothers.

“But I’m young and known to have behavioral issues. I can get away with it.” The youngest Wayne frowned at his father. “What’s the point of establishing the whole ‘behavioral problem’ story if I’m not allowed to show such behaviors?”

“Because you’ve _already_ shown inappropriate behavior.” Bruce fixed his youngest with a chiding stare. “You _cannot_ tell members of the press or high society -or really _anyone_ \- to ‘fuck off’ if you don’t like what they’ve said or asked. You cannot violently attack your brother or call him any of the terrible things you’ve referred to Tim as when asked after him. We came up with the behavioral issue story to buy you some time to better yourself and make sure you weren’t vilified by the press.”

Bruce’s tone expressed disappointment and reproach. It was the first time Jason had seen Bruce really take Damian to task on his behavior. He was impressed. And a little concerned about how his youngest sibling would react. 

Damian looked surprised as well as irritated. He glanced at Dick, who looked steady and calm, and took a couple deep breaths before turning to their father again. He looked far less murderous after taking that moment. “I see. I’ll try to behave myself at the ball. I think I’ve been doing much better with the public and Drake as of late.”

“You have been.” Dick was quick to assure his youngest brother. He reached out and patted his shoulder. “We’ve all noticed.”

“We have.” Bruce concurred while Tim and Jason nodded their agreement. “I’m proud of you for it, but that doesn’t mean I can let you slide now. When you’ve reached the point where you don’t have to bite back a cutting remark or work so hard to restrain yourself from violence, then I’ll back off.” He met his son’s gaze firmly. “You aren’t being singled out here; I ask the same of each of my children.”

“It’s true.” Jason caught his youngest brother’s attention. “He just doesn’t say anything to Dick or Timbers because they don’t want to hit people as often as the rest of us. He used to be on me and Cass a lot more before.” He offered a confident nod. “You’ll get there.”

Damian didn’t respond, but he seemed to take in the advice and words of unity, so Jason dropped it.

“How about we come up with signals that work for both of you?” Dick suggested, looking at both Jason to Damian. “That way, nobody has to wait until they’re ready to lose it to get rescued. I’m thinking caw-caw caw-caw is too obvious.” He grinned when Damian scoffed and Jason rolled his eyes, but both looked amused.

“What if we quote Alfred?” Tim suggested, clearly thinking. “No matter the topic of discussion, you can work in the phrase ‘as our butler often says’ or ‘like my grandfather always said’ and follow it with something that works for the conversation whether he said it or not. Then the rest of us will know that means you need an assist.” He opened his hands in a ‘what do you think?’ gesture. 

Each of the other Waynes perked up at the suggestion. 

“I like that.” Dick smiled. “Alfred’s given us all enough advice that you probably _could_ quote him most of the time." He turned to Jason. "Even if you can’t think of something and pull out Shakespeare, it’ll fit.”

“I like it too.” Jason thought it was fitting. It would also be easy to pull off without anyone noticing the signal. “Alfie’s always on call to save our asses anyway, it makes sense he’d be the code.”

“It will work.” Damian agreed. After a second of consideration, he added, “Pennyworth will be amused by it.”

“He certainly will.” Bruce’s smile suggested he was more amused at his sons’ antics than by Alfred’s probable response to learning he was their conversational code for a rescue.

“Great.” Dick clapped once, excited that they had a plan. “I’m gonna go fill in Cassandra and Alfred.” He glanced at his youngest brother on his way toward the door, his tone and expression light. “Damian, you want to come?”

Damian made a ‘tsk’ sound. “I’m not bothered by crowds the way our brothers are. I don’t need to follow you around like a puppy all night. And I don’t need to be invited to the kitchen, _I_ actually live here.” Even as he complained, he followed his big brother out of the room. 

Dick smiled as held the door open for him, but didn’t comment. 

Their voices sounded through the door as they continued talking while walking down the hall. 

Bruce looked Jason over once more after they left. His smile held, but now it looked pleased and proud. “I’m going to make sure everything’s ready. I’ll be glad to have this night over with too.” He reached out to give Jason’s shoulder a squeeze. “It’ll mean I officially have my son back.”

Jason didn’t say anything as Bruce left the room. He couldn’t think of anything to say to that. He was still getting accustomed to these sudden bursts of paternalism that Bruce kept having lately.

Tim fixed his jacket for him, since it had been ruffled by their father. He stepped back and gave his big brother a once over as well. “You _look_ ready.” He gazed at him earnestly. “Do you feel ready?”

Jason sighed. It was gong to be a long night, but he was confident that his family had his back. He’d be okay. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” 

Tim nodded, understanding the comment fully. “I know I’ve said it already, but...it’s good to have you back.” He stepped closer and gave his big brother a hug that managed to be affectionate but mindful of his tux at the same time. 

Jason quickly returned the embrace, with a little less care than his little brother. When they parted he reached over and fixed a few strands of Tim’s hair that had escaped the texture paste that was holding the strands out of his eyes. Then he took a breath and smiled. “Let’s go.”

On the way out the door, he added, “Dick doesn’t hear about that.”

“About what?”

His little brother was grinning at him when he turned to look at him. 

The ball was as bad as he’d expected but also much easier. The press and assorted strangers (even ones he technically had known) were obnoxious. They asked more questions than he thought was warranted for the situation and blubbered as though their long lost friend had been returned. 

His siblings and father kept their promise to never leave him alone. One of them was always either right by his side or near enough to keep an ear on his conversation. They intervened perfectly whenever he needed, usually before he ever had to resort to their code. 

One reporter kept trying to get him alone and eventually made a comment about his siblings always being about. She was clearly going for cute and light but her veiled frustration was clear. 

Cassandra -who had stepped into their conversation a moment before, ostensibly to insist Jason try one of the appetizers- simply smiled at the woman and patted her brother’s chest with a gloved hand. “We’re still too excited to have him back to let him out of our sight. I’m sure no one minds sharing him with his family.”

The reporter couldn’t disagree without sounding truly horrible, so she agreed. Jason and Cass shared a smirk when she finally left a moment later after realizing she wasn’t going to get him alone that evening. 

“Well done.” He commented and held his fist up, low enough not to draw too much attention. “Thanks.”

She bumped it with equal discretion. “Any time.”

Tim was hounded all night nearly as much as Jason was, as assorted businessmen and women grabbed the opportunity to talk to the young C.E.O. with both hands. Usually they wanted his ear on some new business venture or were simply trying to butter up the boss. Some were clearly looking for weaknesses or checking to see if the boy could be manipulated. He handled each of them with aplomb and still managed to be there any time Jason needed him. Usually, he used their family enterprise to pull Jason from one frustrating conversation to a calmer, business related one instead. 

At one point, Cassandra and Tim helped Jason avoid another reporter that had been pushing his luck and switched places by his side seamlessly as she scooted off to check out the dessert bar and he invited Jason to be introduced to some other high level W.E. employees. 

They turned out to be people he really should meet and they were far more interested in his ideas for Wayne Enterprises community outreach department than they were in his personal life or the years he was missing. One of the women from financing gave him her card so he’d have her email and extension, citing that she wanted to hear more about his youth outreach program so she could help him work out a practical budget. It was one of the most pleasant conversations Jason had all night. 

Dick worked the crowd like a snake charmer in a serpent pit. He seemed to know a little bit about what everyone had been up to lately and could change the topic to an heiress’ new grandchild or a archeologist’s recent promotion without batting an eye. By the time anyone realized their attempt to built up to a sensitive question had been derailed, the conversation was too far gone to get back to it with any sense of propriety. He entertained people with stories of life in the circus or as a Wayne, and even rescued Jason from a widow who actually brought up his funeral by commenting that it had been far too long since he’d seen her dance at ‘one of these things’ and then offering his arm. He shot Jason a wink as he led her to the dance floor.

Damian had the sense of superiority to handle any of the members of the upper class, managing to make most of them feel inferior or outclassed the second they started to step out of line. That caused them to make their own excuses to exit the conversation very quickly. He had even less patience for reporters than Jason, but together, they were able to make their excuses or answer questions in a manner that was just on the edge of discourtesy. It was enough to keep their father pleased, keep the press at arms distance, and amuse both of them. 

Bruce tended to dominate any conversation he entered, so Jason experienced a palpable sense of relief whenever his father joined him. He didn’t plan to tell his father that -he didn’t need any encouragement with his dominating personality- but he thought his appreciation was known when he actually called Bruce into a conversation he was struggling to maintain his composure with. His father had a gleam to his eye for a good hour afterwards. 

He used the Alfred code three times over the course of the night. Twice with reporters and once with an upper class busybody who was pushing too hard to hear the details of his kidnapping and reported ‘death’ as if she truly believed she was watching a novella and not talking to a human being with feelings. The first time, Tim rescued him by answering the reporters questions for him and then pulling him away, citing business. The second time, Cassandra asked him to help her with an issue with the valet service, apologizing and claiming a language barrier prevented her from handling it alone. The third time, Alfred insisted that Jason had to come approve of the champagne for the night’s toast, since he was the guest of honor. 

Jason couldn’t help but wonder if Alfred had heard the code term or just recognized his own words being quoted as he passed by. Either way, having a moment of blissful silence in the dining room was a welcome reprieve. “Thanks, Alfie.”

“Anytime, Master Jason.” The kind man patted his shoulder. “Take a moment before you return to your guests. The night is almost over and you have performed admirably.” He stepped back, checking that he didn’t disrupt Jason’s tux before excusing himself. “I’m afraid I have an appetizer issue to address in the kitchen.”

Jason let the man leave, naturally. He enjoyed a moment of peace before Damian came in. Apparently, his youngest sibling had used the code and their father responded by commenting that it was getting awfully late for him to be up. Damian hadn’t liked essentially being told it was past his bedtime, but he did appreciate the out for the night. 

It took a moment of listening to his youngest brother complain before Jason realized it was Damian’s way of making sure he didn’t think he was abandoning him to the crowd after he’d been assured his family would be there for him all night. 

Jason grinned. “Well, annoying as B’s excuse might have been, I think you should take the out while the getting’s good.” He brushed a hand over Damian’s hair, wrecking the style too much for him to return to the ball anyway. He smirked at the growl his brother released at the action. “Hey, thanks for backing me tonight, brat. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The gratitude, teasing, and dismissal were balanced well enough that Damian wasn’t insulted and didn’t feel the need to defend his own honor, but was adequately let off the hook. He looked relived but was clearly trying not to show it. “Well, you certainly needed all the back up you could get. Remember you said you’d bring that antiquated gaming system over tomorrow.” He called out the last as he was heading for the dining room’s kitchen exit.

Jason called after him. “I’m bringing the NES mini. You and Timbers are gonna experience the classics if it kills me and Dick in the process.”

After that, he headed back to the ballroom. Kate and Cassandra cut off a reporter who was clearly moving in on him. Kate made a show of apologizing to the woman and offering to get her a new drink, since she’d spilled hers when she’d had to abruptly stop walking. Jason wasn’t sure if his second-cousin was flirting or just putting it on thick, but he appreciated the save anyway. Meanwhile, Cass pulled Jason toward the dessert bar, telling him he needed to eat something before the toast so the alcohol wouldn’t go to his head. 

While he knew how much she loved food, Jason couldn’t help but wonder if part of Cassandra’s tendency to graze during such events was due to the fact that you weren’t expected to talk when your mouth was full. Several people approached him and then basically held a once sided conversation, occasionally expecting a hum or nod to show he was following as they talked about what they’d been up to since they saw him last. He was definitely going to join his sister in grazing at the next W.E. charity event he had to attend. Good food and less talking, it was a win-win.

The food also helped his mood when the next reporter started asking him questions. Despite this, he was still borderline outraged when the man did actually bring up his funeral. The man had been about to show him a photo on his phone, clearly not seeing the rage building in Jason’s eyes, when Tim sidled up to his brother to ask a quiet question that apparently needed an answer. The reporter put his phone away, apparently thinking better of showing such images when Jason’s little brother was present.

Afterwards, Tim appeared to just be hanging out with his big brother while he talked to the reporter. He joined the conversation from time to time, and changed the subject entirely when the reporter started digging in too deeply on his time in Ethiopia by asking Jason to tell his favorite story from when he was volunteering with Drake Industries’ aid agency. Fortunately, as Tim had known well, Jason had an entertaining encounter with a gelada during his actual travels that was easily adjusted to fit his new official story. The reporter had been entertained by the two Waynes enough that he didn’t seem to mind when they were called away afterwards because they were about to start the toast. 

Tim wasn’t old enough to drink and he didn’t. Technically, Jason wasn’t old enough either but, legally, he was. In private, the family considered him his physical age but Bruce had acknowledged that publicly, they’d have to use his legal age. So Jason accepted a glass of champagne from his father and listened as he, Dick, and Cassandra each gave heartfelt toasts. A couple others wanted to say a few words too and Jason was definitely ready for a drink after hearing people who couldn’t tell you what color his eyes were talk as if he were almost as valued by them as he was by his family.

He’d intended to keep it at one glass, not wanting to get loose-lipped while surrounded by press and strangers. Even when the entire ball toasted him, which Jason wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond to. However, he discovered that the glass contained the sparkling cider that Tim and anyone who didn’t choose to drink were having. His father had poured it into one of the actual champagne glasses instead of the different ones designed to indicate it wasn’t alcoholic, so no one knew the difference to ask after it. Bruce merely smiled at his son when he shot him a discreet look upon noticing. 

Later, the champagne glass Tim brought him to replace his empty glass (and to interrupt his conversation) also contained sparkling cider. 

“Okay, what gives?” Jason asked while they were moving away from a group that had been asking him questions about his new life in Gotham. “You know I’ve drank before and B agreed that I could legally drink now.”

“Yeah, but physically, you’re still nineteen. Your frontal lobe hasn’t fully developed and Bruce didn’t want to risk screwing up your decision making skills in the future.” Tim shrugged and took a sip of his own sparkling cider. “Besides, I think this stuff is pretty good.” 

It was, but that hadn’t been his point. Still, Jason figured arguing that he wasn’t allowed to drink with his little brother who was too young to drink no matter how you looked at it was pretty senseless. Especially somewhere they might be overheard. So he relented and took another sip of his drink. “It _is_ pretty good.”

Tim smiled. It quickly shifted from genuine to fake as he spotted someone behind Jason. At his brother’s questioning look, he quietly explained. “Mrs Bustamante is coming. She always acts like I’m twelve or something.”

His little brother's voice raised to conversation level as he addressed the regal woman. “Good evening, Mrs Bustamante. How are you enjoying yourself?”

“I’m enjoying myself very much, thank you.” Even that response was pitched as though she was talking to a younger child than the one she was actually addressing. Jason wondered how Tim managed to keep the smile plastered on his face. “And how are you doing? Isn’t it getting a little late for you to be up?” 

“Well that’s what happens when we let Timmy eat sugar too close to his bedtime.” Jason found himself answering sarcastically before he could even think it through. “Don’t worry though, I’ll just slip some children’s Nyquil into his cocoa and he’ll be out like a light in no time.” He draped an arm around his little brother, who was actually shocked enough to freeze at his brother’s words. “I discovered that trick back when I used to babysit him.”

Tim’s eyes were torn between amusement and warning when he caught his brother’s gaze. 

Mrs Bustamante herself looked a little surprised and uncertain at the response. “Well, I- I’m not sure that’s actually how you’re supposed to use that unless the child is ill.” She frowned and actually put her hand on Tim’s forehead. Her tone turned from speaking to an adult to one you’d use to put an ill child at ease. “Are you feeling unwell? Should we summon your father or butler?”

Jason had to bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh. Recognizing that his big brother wasn’t going to be able to speak, Tim jumped in. “He was just kidding, Mrs Bustamante. I think maybe the champagne went straight to his head. If you’ll excuse us, I’m going to take him to the terrace for some air.”

The woman nodded, actually looking concerned. “Of course, sweetheart. You go. I’ll let your father know you might need some help.”

“No, that’s quite all right.” Tim assured her as he started steering Jason toward the terrace door. “Thank you, Mrs Bustamante. Please, enjoy the rest of your evening.”

As soon as they closed the terrace door behind them, Jason started laughing. “Holy crap, how do you put up with that? I mean, without taking jabs at her every minute?”

Tim started to giggle quietly. He kept his voice low so they wouldn’t be overheard. “That was great! Did you see her face? I can’t believe you said that to her...and she didn’t recognize it as sarcasm.”

“It went right over her head.” Jason kept his voice down too. “I’m going to have so much fun with that woman if she keeps attending these events. She’s just asking for it. Seriously, how old does she fucking think you are?”

“I don’t know!” Tim shook his head. “It was in the papers when I got emancipated and took over W.E. and they make sure to mention that I’m a teenager every time I make the business pages. ‘The teenage C.E.O. just closed a deal that will bring renewable energy to Gotham, blah, blah, blah.’ Still, she seems to think I’m twelve, if that. The first party after the emancipation, I thought she mixed me up with Damian somehow.”

That made Jason laugh again. “Have you _said_ anything?”

“I tried correcting her, but you see how well that turned out.” Tim gave a ‘what can you do?’ shrug.

Just then, someone approached the door to the terrace. Jason and Tim pulled themselves together just in time for the door to open. Dick stepped out, frowning at the both of them. “Okay, what did I miss? Jason, are you drunk? Mrs Bustamante just pulled me aside to tell me that it wasn’t appropriate for 'such a sweet boy as Timmy to have to look after his large, drunk brother'.”

“No!” Jason figured that would have been a lot more convincing if he hadn’t started laughing again. Fortunately, Tim had stopped and clearly explained the situation. Then Dick was laughing too. 

Which is how their father found the three of them giggling quietly on the terrace. He looked at them each with amusement for a moment before simply asking, “Mrs Bustamante?” and then nodding when they all started laughing harder. 

He gave them a moment to pull themselves together. “Well, I’m glad she could offer you a release after all the tension tonight. However, discreet as she tried to be, she might have been overheard telling me or Dick what was going on. So Jason, you need to get back in there and see your guests out before rumors of you getting drunk have time to spread.” 

He motioned for his sons to come back inside. “Come on, the night’s almost over.”

They took another moment to make sure they each looked presentable and sober. Then they met Cassandra at the stairs and called everyone’s attention to the family. Jason spoke clearly and politely as he thanked them all for coming, commented how much it meant to him that they all came to welcome him home, and wished them a good night.

Alfred closed the doors behind the last guest to leave nearly half an hour later. Then he left to thank the wait staff and send them on their way with a generous tip.

Jason started pulling at the knot of his tie immediately. “Fuck, please tell me we don’t have to attend or host another ball for at least a year?” 

Tim moved to release Jason’s bow-tie before he destroyed it while Bruce offered a sympathetic smile. “Not that long, I’m afraid, but you have a couple months to recover. At least we aren’t hosting the next one, so we’ll have the option to leave.” 

“How long does propriety insist we stay?” Jason was wondering if he could just make an appearance to the hosts and the press and then leave after ten minutes.

“Longer than whatever you’re thinking,” Tim answered. He was removing his own tie at that point. 

Bruce gave a small laugh at that, as he headed up the stairs. “Your brother’s right. Excuse me a minute, I’m going to check on Damian.”

Jason nodded toward Tim, who was already pulling off his cummerbund. “So you aren’t loving the monkey suits either?”

“I’ve had longer to grow accustomed to them.” Tim answered with a small shrug. Jason took that to mean his little brother didn’t like them but was too well disciplined to say so. With his collar removed, a whip burn was revealed from when he recently caught Catwoman during a heist and the makeup line hiding that he'd been bleached by the Joker was visible. “At least I don’t have to wear much makeup when I’m wearing one.” 

Jason nodded and moved his little brother’s shirt to check the healing would. “Its healing nicely. Shouldn’t leave any scars.”

“How’s your wrist?” Tim motioned toward Jason’s covered wrist, where the cat burglar had sunk her claws in when he grabbed her by the throat as a response to her strangling his brother. Tim had already broken the whip’s hold. It’d been needless and reckless to grab her that way and Jason paid the price. 

“Same. Healing. No sign of infection.” Jason gave a small head tilt. Each of them considered such wounds just part of the job when they received them themselves. It was when one of the others was hurt that that they tended to react more harshly. 

Jason looked toward the stairs, where their father had disappeared. They hadn’t yet told him that they’d put Catwoman in jail. While he pretended to be over their off-again on-again romance, they knew he always took things personally when they involved the thief. 

“Think we should tell him?” Tim asked.

Jason shook his head. “He’ll find out soon enough. Let him ask whatever he wants after he’s gone over the case records a dozen times and calmed down.”

“What are you two talking about?” Dick asked, looking like he wasn’t sure if he should be concerned or amused by his little brothers. 

Jason motioned toward Tim’s neck. “Run in with Catwoman. She was stealing jewels from a mob boss she’d seduced. Got a little ugly but we handed her over to Gordon without too much fuss.”

“Then I’m with you. Let him find out when he’s ready.” Dick looked over Tim’s neck critically. They’d all had much worse, but it still didn’t make it much easier to see one’s brother hurt. He motioned toward Jason’s wrist. “Let me see.”

Jason fidgeted with the cuff links for a moment before releasing a frustrated breath and holding his arm out for Tim. “Can you get these damn things off me?” He shook his head while his little brother complied. “I swear, I can build a gun in seconds and pick a lock even faster but I’ll never figure out how to unlatch these things...”

“Took me two years worth of social events to work ‘em out.” Dick offered kindly. He came over and gave Jason a sound pat on the back. “You’ll get it.”

Cassandra rejoined them wearing sweats and a tank top. Each of her brothers frowned in surprise. 

Jason wasn’t sure if he was more impressed or dumbfounded. “How the hell did you change that fast?”

She shrugged. “Easier than changing out of armor.”

“True.” Dick smiled at her. Then he released a small hiss of sympathy when Tim removed the bandage from Jason’s wrist. “Did she get a claw upgrade somewhere?” He inspected the wounds, they were deeper than expected, but still fine. Skin deep only.

“Looks like it. Mostly she got in a lucky strike though. Three of the claws slipped right between my glove and bracer.” If he had thought before reacting, it wouldn’t have happened. That was something he was going to have to work on when working with his family. He tended to just react whenever one of them was hurt. 

Dick nodded. He looked like he understood. To date, he was still the only member of the family to slip up and use one of their real names while they were out as vigilantes. He thought Tim -then Robin- had been crushed under a collapsed building, so none of his siblings gave him a hard time about it. Their father, of course, had warned him about keeping his head during such incidents but even he had appeared sympathetic. 

Dick put the bandage back on Jason’s wrist while Tim removed the other cuff-link. Then Jason removed his cummerbund. He looked over at Dick. “You staying here tonight?”

“Yeah.” His big brother finally started removing his tie. He still looked perfectly comfortable. “Cass and I figured there wasn’t any point in driving back tonight. We’re heading back in the morning.” 

Dick checked the grandfather clock. It was technically morning already. “Or this afternoon. No point in staying if we don’t get any sleep. Right, Cass?”

“Right.” Their sister agreed. Then she perked up. “Maybe we can stop and see Barbara before we go.”

“Sounds good.” Dick smiled. “I’ll text her later. See if she wants to meet us for lunch.”

“Well, I’m gonna change out of this before we go...and before Bruce sees this.” Tim indicated his neck.

“Smart move. I’m gonna change too.” Jason headed up the stairs with his little brother. They’d arrived in their regular clothes and changed at the Manor earlier, so it made sense to change back. Plus, he really just wanted to get out of the tuxedo. 

Jason glanced down at the main hall as they headed up stairs. It already looked as though no one had passed through recently. “Not bad for my first ball.”

“I think it went well.” Tim agreed. He hesitated, then released a breath. “I’m sorry about springing the funeral thing on you right before it. I didn’t think of it until today, when I saw that stupid article.”

Jason frowned. “What article?”

Tim looked surprised. “In the Inquisitor. It mentioned your homecoming in a pretty bad light. You didn’t see it?”

Jason shook his head. None of them actively read a rag like the Inquisitor, but Tim, Bruce, and Alfred had alerts set to tell them whenever a member of the family was mentioned in any papers or news sites. Jason wasn’t sure if Dick did too, but he definitely didn’t. He supposed he should start. “What did it say?”

Tim hesitated, like he was trying to think of a nicer way to put it. With a news outlet like the Inquisitor, it could have been anything. From insinuating an insurance scam, to suggesting he ran away for any number of vile reasons, to claiming he was a zombie experiment. 

Jason rolled his eyes and yanked his little brother into his room with him. Then he closed the door. “Just say it, Tim.” He was trying not to be harsh, he just didn’t need Tim to sugar coat anything.

Tim seemed to understand. He nodded and took a breath. “They’re saying it was cruel of you to stay in Ethiopia, no matter your reasons. They pulled up old quotes and photos from when you died, to remind everyone of how much it hurt your family and friends. Most of the friend quotes are from people who barely knew you. They just...made a big scene because they could, I guess.

“There are several photos of Bruce and Dick, after you passed. One of Barbara with her father at your funeral. A few of some people who didn’t know you as well as they acted at the time, and one of me.” Tim looked sad, and ashamed. He shook his head. “It didn’t even occur to me at the time, what it might have looked like if someone saw me.”

Jason wasn’t sure if he wanted to see the photos Tim described, but he had a feeling he should. He thought of the reporter who had asked about his funeral. About the photo he was going to show Jason before Tim interrupted and he thought better of it. If he or another reporter tried that again, it would be better if Jason wasn’t seeing it for the first time. He couldn’t say how he’d react otherwise.

That could wait until later though. After he was home and comfortable. After his little brother didn’t look so sad. “You were a child, Tim, and you’d just lost your hero. No one can blame you. We already have a cover story worked out...its fine.”

He didn’t make a habit of hugging his siblings, not like Dick did, but he pulled his little brother into one then. Unlike Bruce, Dick, and Alfred, Tim hadn’t been able to openly grieve Jason’s passing. Clearly, his composure had slipped during Jason’s funeral, but Jason would be willing to bet that was the only time he’d let his pain show around another living soul. Batman hadn’t announced Robin’s death, so he couldn't even pass it off as being upset about that. 

Jason would be willing to bet a large part of his reaction to the article was him reliving some of what he’d felt then. Only this time, he wasn’t able to keep it all in. “It’s okay, Timbers. I’m here. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Tim nodded, but didn’t loosen his hold on his big brother. Jason figured he either needed the comfort or he was still trying to pull himself together and didn’t want him to see how upset he was. He decided to just hang on a minute and let Tim work out whatever was going on. At least he seemed to be helping. 

When they finally pulled away a moment later, Tim’s lashes were a little damp, as were two tiny spots on Jason’s shirt. Neither of them acknowledged it. Jason would be tossing his shirt in the hamper soon and if Alfred noticed, he wouldn’t say a word either. If Tim noticed that a small patch of his hair was a little damp, he wouldn’t tell a soul.

Jason rubbed Tim’s arm. “Feeling better?”

Tim nodded. He looked a little tired, but ultimately much better. “Sorry about that.”

Jason waved it off. “I blame the ball. They’re way too tense. Seriously, I want real champagne at the next one.”

Tim laughed softly. 

“And I’m _definitely_ playing it up if Mrs Bustamante acts like you're ten or something.”

That earned a real laugh. Jason smiled. “Lets get out of the monkey suits and go home. I want to level up Ashe and Vaan a bit before I go to sleep. They’re falling behind.” 

He’d recently downloaded the FFXII: Zodiac Age re-master and gotten hooked. He figured a little gaming and a beer before bed would help ease the stress of the day. Although talking to his siblings and helping his little brother had also made him feel much better. He started to wonder about the number of times Dick randomly pulled Damian into a hug. He’d always assumed it was for Damian, but now he had to wonder if maybe Dick was doing it for himself just as often. 

It made him feel a little bad about the number of times he’d refused a hug. Not bad enough to accept them each time, but enough to question if his big brother was okay the next time he tried it. 

“That’s because you _never_ use them in your party.” Tim pointed out, still smiling. “So why bother?”

Jason shrugged and started removing the studs from his shirt. “Its the principle. Besides, I might need to use them later and I can’t have them five levels behind the rest of the party. They’d be useless.”

“Wouldn’t want that.” Tim agreed. “I’m gonna go change. I’ll see you downstairs in a bit.”

They’d both dressed for comfort (and to hide injuries that gave away the latest Rogue they’d put behind bars) when they got there, assuming the night would run late. Jason was able to change quickly. Not as quickly as Cassandra had, but Jason wasn’t about to try doing it that fast, lest he tear the tux and have to go through a fitting again. He'd hated that almost as much as the ball. 

He quickly rinsed the gel out of his hair and changed the bandage on his wrist before heading downstairs. Tim and Dick had cleaned up and changed too. As had Damian, who was hanging out with his favorite brother again. They all knew he liked it when Dick was in town, but teasing him about it had gotten old, so they all ignored it. Except for Dick, who loved seeing his youngest sibling just as much. 

“Are you two heading home?” Bruce asked as he joined them in the living room. 

“Yeah, we’re calling it a night.” Jason nodded. Then he stepped up to his father and offered his hand, which the man took immediately and used to pull his son into a half hug, just as he’d expected. He returned the hearty pat to back he received. 

“Thanks for all this, B.” He kept his voice low. “It means a lot to me.”

“It means the world to the rest of us.” Bruce kept his voice low too. “Having you back.”

Jason smiled and nodded as he stepped away. He was following Tim out the door when their father called after them. “Oh, and boys?”

They each turned. Their father wore a small, proud smirk. “Good job with Catwoman.” 

Before either of them could think of a response, he told them to drive safely and to have a good night. Then he called that it was time for Damian to get ready for bed and turned with a frown when the boy started to protest. 

Jason pushed Tim to keep walking and closed the door behind them. “Stick to the plan. Don’t say anything if he doesn’t.”

Tim nodded and followed his big brother to the car. “Do you think he checked the police reports, or do you think he was actually watching?”

“Who the fuck knows with him?” Jason shook his head and then got into the car. Tim followed suit. “I swear he has sonar that tells him where we are at any given time. Or he secretly microchipped us while we were sleeping.”

Tim chuckled. “Only he’d call them something else. Bat-chipping or Robin-chipping.”

“Yeah, and then he'd swear Dick named it.” Jason was starting to laugh too. “As if he hasn’t taken that ball and rolled with it for years now.”

Tim arched a brow. “A little harsh from the guy who put Dick’s ‘red-stroom’ sign back up in the Bunker after I took it down.”

Jason shrugged. “Its funny.” And it reminded him of Dick. He wasn’t going to risk that getting back to his big brother though. 

“I didn’t use red when I had to change one of the casings during the computer update because I happened to have one that color.” Tim admitted quietly. “I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

Jason smiled. “Deal.”

It had been an emotional night. But Jason felt good. No matter what any papers or gossipers said, no matter how many people tried to use his return to boost their own popularity, no matter how many uncomfortable tuxedos he had to wear, it was worth it. He was able to introduce himself by his real name again. Able to acknowledge his family as such in public. 

And for as much as they drove him crazy sometimes, he knew he had a really great family where it counted.

He was happy to be home.


End file.
